


You're So Last Summer

by lookingforatardis



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Closeted Character, Flirting, M/M, Secret Relationship, Skipping Class, Teasing, i guess sort of fwb, lotsss of dialogue, this is possibly the most Them thing ive ever written and it's an AU lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 09:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19129600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforatardis/pseuds/lookingforatardis
Summary: Bratty/reckless high school AU ft. ditching class and making out. I don't really know how else to describe it yall. Read the tags i guess haha





	You're So Last Summer

**Author's Note:**

> listen this has been a WIP in my folder since march i might as well just post it lol (despite this fact i have still never bothered to truly edit this thing so if there are grammar errors seriously im so sorry haha)

The sun warms the concrete around Armie's ass where he sits, one leg dangling over the edge of the stairwell into the emergency exit. Eyes closed, he lounges with a hand on his abdomen, cigarette hanging from his lips, earbuds in. It's a beautiful day, which only meant he'd skipped out after first period. He lost count of the number of cigarettes he'd gone through at this point, lazily sucking the smoke into his lungs off and on for hours munching on chips and Gatorade as he texted a friend of a friend about getting his hands on some weed for the weekend.

“Hey jackass.” The voice, combined with the sharp kick to his foot, jolts him to attention. The cigarette falls from his mouth and he has to shuffle around to grab it before it attempts to burn his crotch.

“ _Jesus_ Chalamet,” he mutters, cigarette back between his lips as he turns his music up. “Fuck off,” muttered as he blows smoke in his direction.

“Come on, I brought pizza you dick.” He peeks out the corner of his eye to see Timmy sit down cross legged beside him, a covered plate placed on Armie's lap as he reaches out to take Armie's cigarette, tugging his earbuds out of his ears before settling back and inhaling deeply with a hum.

“No, I wasn't listening to that, by all means—do you want my wallet? Laptop? Anything else?” Armie rolls his eyes, pauses his music since he's clearly no longer going to be allowed to listen, and lifts the napkin to find two slices of pepperoni pizza. “Thanks, man,” he says while taking a bite out of a slice.

“This is shit, what is this?” Armie glances over to see Timmy glaring at the cigarette between his fingers.

“Oh, I'm sorry it's not your organic imported whatever the fuck it is you smoke,” Armie laughs, reaching out to take it back. “It's what I could get my hands on.” He blows the smoke out with a smirk, Timmy's eyes watching narrowly.

“Hot,” Timmy teases as he leans back with his hands pressed into the concrete. He watches Armie extinguish it before looking back into his eyes. “What are we doing today?”

“This,” Armie shrugs, finishes his slice of pizza with quick bites.

“ _This_? Man, let's go on an adventure. I'm fucking bored.”

“You only like me for my car,” Armie says, mouth full as he wipes his hands on his jeans.

“Not true,” Timmy smiles. “I also like your cigarettes.” He taps Armie's hip to get him to lift up enough so Timmy can slip the pack out of his pocket. “Well, sometimes,” he smirks, taking one before tossing the pack back at Armie and holding a hand out for a lighter.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks, reaching over to light Timmy's cigarette himself before slipping the lighter back into his pocket.

“Literally anywhere but here,” he sighs, picking at his shirt. Armie watches and smiles when he looks up through the silence.

“Bad morning?”

“Better now.”

“Okay,” Armie nods. “Grab your shit, let's go.” Timmy fights his smile as he stands, backpack thrown over a shoulder. He follows Armie around the side of the building towards the student lot and passes the cigarette when Armie's hand lifts in the space between them. He throws his backpack in the back seat and slides into the passenger side as Armie folds the now empty plate to stuff into the side door of his car before sitting down and throwing his bag with Timmy's. “Music?”

“Got it,” Timmy nods, sifting through Armie's collection of CD's jammed into the glove compartment, side door, and seat pockets behind them. He finds something with scribbled lettering _last summer_ on the disc.

Armie rolls his eyes but says nothing, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as Kid Cudi floods his car stereo. The windows are down before he's even out of the lot, Timmy's arm drifting through the open air and he nods along to the song, cigarette smoke drifting from his lips as it's passed back and forth. “Waterfall?” he asks when they turn down a familiar backroad, smile on his lips as Armie smirks in response. He hums and rests his head back, eyes closed.

Armie hits him when they near a gravel road so Timmy will roll his window up. They near a makeshift parking lot by a trail map and Armie puts the car in park, laughing when Timmy's already unbuckled and opening the door before it's off. He takes his time getting out of the car, stretching his arms over his head while watching Timmy open the trunk and reach in for a hiking backpack and a few water bottles, stuffing them inside of it before slipping arms through the loops and tightening the straps, too long from Armie wearing it last time.

They don't talk as they walk towards a path they've walked a dozen times before, but Timmy breaks the silence a few minutes in after they're covered by bright green cascading light through the trees. “I needed this today.”

“I could tell. Want to talk about it?”

“Man, it's just shit. I had that meeting with the counselor and she keeps bugging me about choosing _a realistic career path_ ,” he mutters.

“I told you, fuck 'em. You're fine,” Armie says, shoving his shoulder.

“ _You know_ the statistics alone of failure—”

“Are irrelevant,” Armie interrupts. “You want to act, you'll act.”

“Easy for you to say, you're a fucking model already. The transition is natural for you.”

“Not if I don't have talent,” Armie says. “Look kid. If anyone can make it happen, it's you.”

“Thanks,” Timmy shakes his head.

“You'll see. We'll get to New York and you'll have those producers eating out of the palm of your hand begging you to be in their plays.”

“That's not how it works,” Timmy laughs, nudging Armie's shoulder.

“Sure it is,” Armie says, mock sincerity as he reaches for the backpack to wear it himself, knowing it hurt Timmy's shoulders sometimes and sensing he didn't need that on top of the morning he apparently had.

“Anyway. I'll just live off your model money until it happens,” Timmy smirks at the ground.

“Ha! My model money will fund my ass and mine alone.” They walk in silence for a few minutes before Armie pulls his cigarettes back out and takes one out, pausing before lighting up, contemplating if he even wants it. “Anyway. You know it's temporary, I hate that world.”

“Necessary evil,” Timmy nods, reaching to place a hand on Armie's wrist as he leans in to take the cigarette from his hand with his lips, making Armie smirk and roll his eyes. “Maybe we'll get cast in something together,” Timmy muses, smiling up at the trees.

“I’d rather be the one directing you.” He looks over at Armie and pushes him to get him to look over.

“New subject. You look mopey,” Timmy says.

“Is that the new subject? Me, mopey?”

“Smart ass,” Timmy rolls his eyes and pushes Armie again, though his wrists get caught in Armie's grasp and they stumble for a few steps before Timmy shakes him off with a laugh.

“That new soccer kid you think is hot was out this morning with his shirt off,” Armie says after a while.

“He was?! And you didn't text me? You ass.”

“It was during your career thing,” Armie rolls his eyes. “Besides, you know he's straight as shit.”

“Yeah, so are you,” Timmy smirks.

“That's different,” Armie laughs, shoving Timmy.

“Is it?”

“Some people actually are straight, Tim.”

“So you say,” Timmy teases, hopping around so he's walking backwards to face Armie.

“You're gonna fall, nerd,” Armie complains, reaching out to help stabilize him when he nearly trips over a root.

“You really think I should give up on that guy?”

“He has a girlfriend, Timmy.” Armie fights laughter when he sees Timmy's eyes light up, his mouth open to say something. “It's _different_ , don't drag Elizabeth into this.”

“Man, I'm just saying.”

“Yeah, you're _just saying_. Shut up.”

“I'm pretty irresistible,” Timmy says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Armie mumbles with a smile, tugging on one of Timmy's hands to pull him back to his side so he walks normally.

“Does she ask about me?”

“Elizabeth? Yeah,” Armie nods. “It's whatever.”

“Wait, what do you tell her?” Timmy asks, staring wide eyed with a smirk. Armie glances over and laughs at him before tugging his shirt to pull him towards the right way when the path forks.

“That we get high and skip class together sometimes.”

“Oh, is that all I am to you, then?” Timmy asks, hand over heart. “Ouch.”

“Oh, _fuck off_ ,” Armie laughs.

“I'm not gonna make out with you just for that.”

“Wow, wait,” Armie says, feigning shock, turning to walk sideways to stare at Timmy. “Oh my god— _Timmy_ —did you wake up with exorbitant amounts of self-control today?”

“You're hilarious,” Timmy rolls his eyes and throws his shoulder against Armie's, but they both stumble and Armie has to wrap his arm around Timmy's shoulders to straighten them up. He leaves his arm draped after, a lazy smile on his face. Timmy shuffles a little before slipping his arm between the backpack and Armie's lower back, head lolling to rest against Armie briefly before they fall in step together. “You're all sweaty,” Timmy complains, though they both know Timmy far from minds.

“Because I'm a man,” Armie smirks. Timmy laughs and pinches his side, leans his head back enough to rest against his arm over his shoulders.

“Won't argue that,” he hums, fingers tapping out against Armie's side with a smile, knowing he's not quite ticklish but squirms with the feeling nevertheless. They walk in comfortable silence for a while before Timmy shrinks away from Armie to grab water, passing it to Armie before stuffing it back in the side pocket of the backpack and reaching for Armie's hand.

“Timmy, come on,” he complains. “It's gonna be sweaty.”

“Does it look like I care?” he asks, smiling as he squeezes Armie's hand in his before holding it loosely to let air through their fingers so Armie shuts up. They can hear the sound of rushing water and Timmy starts getting eager, bouncing on his feet, making Armie laugh.

They drop the backpack on a rock when they get close enough and Armie tosses his shirt off on top of it before reaching for Timmy's, hand outstretched to take it to throw it on top of his own as they take off their socks and shoes. Timmy stretches out to loop his fingers into the front of Armie's jeans, smirk on his lips. “Don't,” Armie warns, but makes no move to stop him.

“Oh come on, go skinny dipping with me,” Timmy says, fingers tugging at the material.

“Not in the middle of a day on a public path, you dork,” Armie says, tickling Timmy's sides.

“Jeans?” Timmy asks, retreating to unzip his own.

“Yeah, I'll take them off though, keep your greedy little hands to yourself.”

“You say that now,” Timmy smiles, jumping to pull his pants off each leg. Armie smiles as he watches, his own pants being abandoned with a bit more grace before they're walking to the edge of the water.

“Fuck! Still cold,” Armie groans, but they walk in anyway.

“It's only April, Armie,” Timmy laughs.

“Yeah well,” he rolls his eyes, splashing water at Timmy, laughing when he shrieks and stumbling when Timmy lunges for him, arms up and over his shoulders as Armie grabs for purchase against his back. They're kissing before Armie even has his balance, Timmy's tongue sliding against the roof of his mouth as his hands rest at Timmy's ribs. He lets it go on for a minute before sighing and pulling back with a quiet moan.

“Way better than AP history,” Timmy teases, his hands moving to slide down Armie's chest.

“Well fuck, I'd hope so.” Timmy yelps when Armie grips him around the waist and heaves him into the water, his hands gripping Armie's biceps and pulling him in so they're tumbling into the water, Armie shouting as the water chills his spine. “You little shit,” he laughs, reaching for Timmy as they cling together for warmth.

“Fucking cold,” Timmy whines, burying his face against Armie's neck. “Warm me up.” Armie rubs his hands over Timmy's body and pulls him closer, lifting one of his legs so it's wrapped around his waist, smiling when the other follows as he leans in to kiss his shoulder. They linger under water to stop the chill air from cooling their wet bodies as Timmy hums against Armie's body, nipping at his skin as he gets bored and growing more insistent as time passes until he's sucking at his neck.

“You're gonna leave a mark, stop.”

“Then pay attention to me,” Timmy mumbles, hands moving to grip Armie's hair tightly as he continues his assault.

“I _am_ paying attention—there's nothing else to pay attention to! Tim! Stop,” he laughs, tickling Timmy's side to get him to leave his neck alone. Timmy kisses him on the mouth when he they part and slips his hands between their bodies, his fingers curling against Armie's chest for warmth as his legs tighten around his waist. 

With the sun shining over them, Armie can pretend it's summer again and no one will ask where he's been, who he's been with. It had started innocently, Timmy bumming a hit off of his joint at the start of summer house party thrown by some football player last year. They'd gotten high, gotten touchy (though hours later, not that either would ever admit to being clear headed that night), and then didn't speak for weeks. Armie saw him one day and wandered over, offered a cigarette, started talking. Timmy was completely different from anyone he'd ever known, and he was fascinated (if not a little, no _, a lot_ frustrated by him and his antics). Not to mention, he'd never felt attraction so violently and with so much immediacy as he did with Timmy—it felt inevitable, and as the summer wore on, he spent more nights (and mornings, and days) moaning Timmy's name then not.

They fell into a rhythm, both knowing what they had was never something they'd label. They hung out, joked around, partied, and fucked. It was simple. Timmy didn't ask about Elizabeth, and Armie didn't mention her.

When school started back up, things were different. Armie started opening up little by little and they began being friends, _actual_ friends. Sometimes, they wouldn't even make out when they were alone. It evolved, naturally. Armie thought idly one night on the floor of Timmy's bedroom as they listened to music that Timmy was more like a brother than anything, the way they teased and annoyed each other. Then he looked over and saw Timmy biting his lip while he scribbled a note down and wondered how fucked up he had to be to think of him that way and also _want_ him so completely, so thoroughly, that no one else's body would ever satisfy him again.

Timmy's hands snake lower until Armie's head falls forward against his shoulder, hands slipping down to wrap around Timmy's thighs. The warmth of Timmy's hand around his dick is welcome, but the water is still too cold for him to really enjoy it. Timmy doesn't seem to mind, and neither does he; they kiss lazily, Timmy's hand stroking him on occasion to keep him interested before drifting back up to tangle in his hair. By the time they make it out of the water, Armie's teasing Timmy's lips for being a little puffy.

Their backs press against the large, warm rocks near the waterfall edge as the sun washes over them, Timmy's arms flung up over his head. The light catches on his chest, still a little damp; Armie can't stop himself from reaching over to gather the droplets on his fingers “Tickles,” Timmy smiles, squirming as his leg drifts to drape over Armie, who retaliates by trapping it between both of his own as he turns to lay half across Timmy, his lips kissing a line over his collarbone when he complains about the weight crushing him, knowing full well Timmy _loves_ the weight of him. “Let's just stay here forever.”

“You wouldn’t last a night out in the wilderness,” Armie teases, fingers snaking up along the lines of Timmy's arms still bent overhead.

“Sure I would. You'd do all the work,” he smirks as Armie chuckles and bites his shoulder. “Ah! Rude.”

“Shut up, you like it rough,” Armie mumbles, teeth dragging along his skin before soothing it with his lips.

“Hmm, maybe.” Armie sighs and nuzzles against his throat when Timmy seems to sink into the touch. “You staying tonight?”

“Dunno,” Armie shrugs. The silence pulls Timmy's focus and his hands lower to Armie's shoulders, pressing softly until he's on his back as Timmy towers over him. “You know she doesn't like it when I skip, I should probably go over there.” Timmy nods and rests his hands against Armie's chest, biting his lip as Armie's touch brushes over the backs of his knees, up the backs of his thighs.

“You should really tell her,” Timmy says. “I don't know how you explain away the marks I leave.” Armie rolls his eyes when Timmy touches a fading bruise at the base of his throat.

“Winter clothes helped.”

“Well, winter is over.”

“Guess you'll have to stop then.”

“And miss the way you sound when I do it? Not a chance,” Timmy smirks. They end up in a tangle, wrestling until Armie's willingly pinned, Timmy's hands holding his wrists down as they makeout lazily, Timmy grinding his hips down until Armie suggests they finish in the car.

It's a long walk back and by the time they're driving, Timmy's rubbing the back of his neck and laughing about a cramp from the small space, his ass shifting in his seat. Armie glances over, smug and smiling, before dropping a hand onto Timmy's thigh.

Sometimes after they'd been intimate, a dopey smile would spread across Armie's face, his laughter spilling out of him more freely. Without fail, it took Timmy's breath away while it lasted. He'd been so used to the brash boy he'd grown up with, the boisterous troublemaker, always there with a smirk and a comment. The goofball side of him that Timmy saw, the carefree touch offered and relaxed smiles—Timmy could almost admit to himself that he was addicted to the shift in demeanor almost as much as the sex itself.

Not that he'd tell Armie—no, that would mean breaking the spell and Timmy knew it.

Armie's hand clamps down tight on Timmy's upper thigh when he tries to get out of the car back at school, causing Timmy to look back with questioning eyes. Armie's smirk is firmly in place, his thumb rubbing along Timmy's thigh. “That was fun,” he says, hand slipping to cover Timmy's crotch. For a moment, Timmy isn't sure what to say. His head lulls forward the second Armie squeezes, his own hand moving to cover it for more pressure. “Ah, ah. Don't be greedy.”

“Fuck you,” Timmy groans as Armie pulls his hand back to run through his hair, smirking as he looks forward out of the car.

“Have fun at play practice.”

“You're such an asshole,” Timmy laughs. Armie looks over and laughs, shrugs, rests his head against the back of his seat. Timmy lingers before leaving, his heart skipping suddenly.

“You should go, don't want to be late.” Timmy catches his breath and nods as he realizes Armie is slipping back into his normal self before his eyes, his smile more careful, legs spreading a bit in confidence, hand thrown over the steering wheel. “See ya, Chalamet.”

“See ya, Hammer,” Timmy says back, hand on his backpack as he slips out of the car, just in time for his evening play practice.

 


End file.
